The Anniversary
by Kaikoura
Summary: This is a set of short stories all running to a common theme- how Sirius, Harry, Voldemort, Petunia, Remus and Lily and James spend the anniversary of Lily and James' death. (finished)
1. Ask Peter

A/N-I listed this as general because all of the stories belong in a different category. The stories do link up slightly, but they're not all chapters of the same story. They're five separate stories about the same thing. This one's a bit maudlin and over the top, but I like it. I've used a bit of artistic license, with giving Lily an order of merlin and a wax dummy, but I think she deserved it.  
All sections in surrounded by ** ** are dreams or memories.  
  
Disclaimer - Much as I wish it was, it isn't mine. Don't sue.   
  
**Sirius jumped the low gate and strode up the quaint garden path. The neat rows of gardens were full of life. Everywhere, flowers bloomed - marigolds, gerberas, roses, daisies and of course, lilies floating in a small fishpond. There was even honeysuckle climbing the wall of the house.  
The garden must have been Lily's doing. James had been infamous at Hogwarts for his ability to kill plants just by thinking about picking up a trowel. If Sirius recalled correctly their Herbology professor agreed to give James a passing grade if he kept as far away from her precious plants as possible.  
Sirius didn't knock. He went straight through the wide open door and up the stairs.  
Lily was in the kitchen with her back to the door. She was wearing a white t-shirt and denim jeans. Her dark red hair was pulled into a messy braid. He crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Really tight security you've got here." he chided jokingly. "If I had evil intentions you would be dead." he lifted her off the ground with ease. She was feather light, so it took no effort at all.   
"Put me down Sirius." she laughed. He obeyed immediately, dropping her on the floor.   
"James is in the dining room." she said, climbing to her feet. "Go annoy him." she suggested, beginning to arrange three cups of coffee on a tray.   
His heart sank when he saw the dining room table. He was never treated like a guest in the Potter house. He was so like a member of their little family that he was often made to do the dishes. But the table was set with the good china and silver. There were wine glasses and napkins. Lily had even made scones, which were served on a plate they had received as a wedding gift and never used, with jam and fresh cream. They'd gone to a lot of effort. It had to be bad news.  
He collapsed into a chair and fought to keep the fear from reaching his face. Lily put a cup of coffee in front of him and he wrapped his hands around it to keep them from shaking. Lily and James never cared about ceremony when they had good news. They announced their engagement calmly over dinner one day in the seventh year, in the same tone you would use to ask for the potatoes. They'd married with the same lack of fuss- Lily borrowed a white dress from her friend Arabella and they eloped on the train ride home from Hogwarts. They told Sirius and Remus they were expecting Harry over pizza and a video.  
"Lunch will be ready in about ten minutes." Lily said politely.  
Sirius ran a mental checklist of all their surviving mutual friends who could have been killed. Remus? No, Sirius would have been informed right away. Arabella then? Sirius wasn't that close to her. Lily and James wouldn't go to this much trouble to tell him about Arabella. Could it be Harry? No. They wouldn't be so calm and together. Lily was fond of saying that she would rather die than let something happen to Harry.  
Lily sat on James' lap and sipped her coffee. Sirius had to smile, despite his worries. Looking at Lily and James, you wouldn't know that they'd been married for years. They still acted like childhood sweethearts.   
They ate in awkward silence. Or at least, Lily and James ate. Sirius just pushed his chicken around his plate, wishing they would give him the bad news already.  
They told him during dessert.  
"Sirius, we got the Dark Mark in the mail today." James said.  
Sirius was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating. This was the worst possible news they could give. Lord Voldemort owled a picture of the Dark Mark to families he intended to kill because he wanted them to try to run or hide. He enjoyed either hunting down families who tried to flee to 'safe' countries like Australia, or torturing information out of Secret Keepers.  
"Are you sure its real?" He asked. Some sick people sent fake ones to scare their enemies, even though Dark Mark hoaxes carried a ten year Azkhaban sentence.   
Lily nodded. "We took it to the ministry and they verified it for us."  
"What will you do?" Sirius asked. A lump formed in his throat, but he blinked back the tears that filled his eyes. He wouldn't cry. Crying would make this real, and he wouldn't grieve for them when they were sitting in front of him.  
"Running isn't an option. You-Know-Who always catches his prey." Lily said. She spoke in a hollow voice, as if she was trying to pretend that she was talking about someone else.  
"Siriuswewantyoutobeoursecretkeeper." James said quickly, like he was getting it over and done with.  
"what?" Sirius asked.   
"We want you to be our Secret Keeper." Lily repeated.   
Sirius' first instinct was to say no. Everyone knew that to agree to be a Secret Keeper was a death sentence. If Voldemort couldn't torture a person's location out of one, he would kill them instead as a consolation.  
But then he looked into Lily's wide, frightened emerald eyes. He thought of little Harry and found himself nodding. "Of course I will."**  
  
Sirius woke howling. He threw his shaggy black head back and howled out his terrible, soul destroying grief.  
When he had fully awoken and calmed down he looked around, trying to make sense of his new surroundings. He was curled up on the floor of a children's playroom. He stood up and stretched. He shook himself, from his head to his tail, to try to shake off the feeling the dream left. It had a happy ending, but to Sirius' guilt racked mind the possible happily-ever-after it had dangled in front of him was an unattainable what-if that pained him.  
It was almost exactly the way that he remembered the conversation they had had fifteen years earlier. Except for the end. At the end of the real conversation, instead of looking into Lily's eyes, he'd looked at the newspaper on the seat next to him. At the headline "Mutilated Body of Loyal Secret Keeper Discovered in Thames"  
So he'd thought quickly to find reasons to convince the Potters (and himself) that it was better if Peter Pettigrew did it. Because no one would expect their secret keeper to be Peter. Instead of saying yes he said -  
"Not me. I'm too obvious. If you keep your secret keeper a secret, you'll be safer. Why don't you ask Peter?"   
  
Sirius padded into the hallway, skirting a baseball and a barbie convertible that had been left on the floor. He knew where he was now- in the home of the Kelleys. Their son, Edward, found him asleep on a bench in the park. (in dog form of course.) He'd named him 'Butch' and begged his parents to let him keep him. They had given in, so Sirius or 'Butch' had a warm place to sleep and regular meals. The downside was that he had to play fetch and he lived in fear that the Kelleys would take him to be neutered.   
He went into Mr. Kelley's office, to confirm what his internal clock was telling him by looking at the desk calendar. Mr. Kelley was as regular as clockwork where his desk calendar was concerned. Every morning he got up, got dressed, combed his hair, had a nutritious breakfast, brushed his teeth, changed the date on the desk calendar and went off to his job as an accountant at a shoe factory. So there could be no doubt about the date. It was February the tenth..  
The fifteenth anniversary of the Potter's death.  
Fifteen years to the day since his cowardice killed two of his best friends.  
"Why don't you ask Peter?"  
  
  
He nosed open the front door and walked out into the harsh morning light. Edward Kelley would be sad that his dog 'Butch' had run away, but Sirius suspected that Mr. and Mrs. Kelley would be glad to see him go.   
He put his nose to the ground and started walking, going wherever his nose took him. He was in an unfamiliar suburb, but his senses of smell and hearing were exceptional.   
His sense of hearing had come in handy on the day of Lily and James' funeral. Because everyone thought he had been their Secret Keeper, he couldn't turn up at their funeral without any obvious sign of having been tortured for the information. Instead, he'd curled up in the bushes under an open window to hear the goings on inside.  
**The priest, one of the few that would serve the wizarding world, was an old man, made older by having to bury too many young people cut down in their prime simply for being who they were. The tiny chapel was packed, with over three hundred mourners attending. James and Lily were very popular in life, and some people attended just because they were Harry Potter's parents.  
Everyone there was dressed to the nines. With people attending an average of one funeral about every two months, it was considered a good investment to spend upwards of a thousand galleons on a set of designer mourning robes..**  
  
When he looked around, he wasn't surprised to find that his nose had led him to the church that their memorial service was held in.   
Lily and James weren't really religious people, but Petunia had jumped up and down and screamed that her sister was not going to be buried in the unhallowed ground of the wizards graveyards. Sirius didn't really understand why she did that. Maybe she wanted to get her revenge finally by denying Lily her right to be laid to rest as a witch. In the will it stipulated that James wanted to be buried next to Lily, but he never specified that he wanted to be buried in the Potter plot. So they both wound up in St Jeanne's on Picklesby Rd.   
Sirius had to change back to human to get to their grave. The grave was the highlight of just about every ghost tour that ran in the city. A high fence had to be build around them because some tourists didn't think it was distasteful to take a handful of dirt or a flower as a souvenir.  
Sirius wrapped his hands around the smooth iron of the fence and hoisted himself upwards. During his schooldays he had been forced to learn to climb fences, trees and even the astronomy tower once to escape irate teachers or vengeful prank victims. He landed on the soft grass on the other side. Treading lightly so that he wouldn't horrify the wizarding world by leaving footprints.  
In death, as in life, there was really nothing to mark where Lily ended and James began. They were buried in one large double grave that was edged with a bed of lilies. The headstones were real black marble. They were erected by the ministry when they discovered that Petunia intended to mark them with a brass nameplate nailed to a brick.  
To muggle eyes, the stones said very little about Lily and James. Lily's simply said her name (Lily Potter, nee Evans) and a quote that brought tears to the eyes of every mother that read it. "I would rather die than let something happen to my son"  
But in a circle around the words, her achievements were written in a language only a wizard would understand.   
First was a silver Hogwarts crest. Then there was a Head Girl badge. The crossed broomstick symbol of a Quidditch player. Lily had stepped in to play a single game when the Gryffindor chaser was injured in a brawl. There was no substitute, and they would have forfeited if they didn't find a Gryffindor girl who fitted into Sydney Egan-Kirk's Quidditch robes.  
Next to that was a replica of her post-humous order of Merlin medallion. The real medallion temporarily resided in the chamber of Horrors in Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum with Lily's wax likeness. There was an entire room (inaccessible to muggles) devoted to Lord Voldemort and his more notable victims.   
The final symbol would have been funny if it hadn't been so heartbreakingly tragic. It was a small silver baby's bottle. Lily had been named Mother of the Year a month after her death.  
Movement to the left made Sirius panic. He turned back into a dog and laid low behind the tombstones.  
It was just a young woman walking down the road. She was slightly built and had a halo of fiery red hair, and for one crazy second he thought that it was Lily. He jumped up and barked excitedly, trying to attract her attention.  
She turned and shielded her eyes, her pretty face puzzled. Sirius came crashing back to reality. She was far too young to be Lily. Besides, how could Lily be strolling down the street if she was buried not half a foot away from him?   
Sirius lay down beside the graves, smelling the sweet smell of the lilies, wallowing in his own guilt.   
"Why don't you ask Peter?" 


	2. Baby Lily

A/N- Firstly, much apologies for being wrong about the date of the Potter's death. I'm very vague about dates. I have trouble remembering my own birthday. I can't fix the last chapter without typing the whole thing out again, but I've added references to Halloween in this chapter.   
And you'll all probably jump up and down and scream "sacrilege!" because I've gone against canon and made a teeny, tiny part of Petunia human. But it isn't possible to not miss your sister at all. A tiny part of you has to be sad.  
And, to cap off what is quite possibly my longest A/N so far, the idea of making Petunia grieve for baby Lily was inspired by something I heard my mother say on the phone about my brother who died two years ago. "You don't just miss them as a fifteen year old. You miss them how they were at other ages as well. Which is really odd, because the eight year old Simon was dead by that time anyway"  
  
  
CH 2  
  
He looked at the red figures on the digital clock radio that was nearly hidden by the pile of roses he was weaving into a wreath for the wedding of Sarah-Marie Dahl and Roaland Plinkett. It flipped over to 9:42. He smiled. She would be here soon.  
He was famous in his town for his uncanny ability to remember every customer that entered his flower shop, even if they didn't return for months. But this woman was particularly memorable, because she was one of his oddest customers (even odder than the man who, every week without fail, sent his wife a bunch of roses with a card that read 'I'm sorry') She'd been coming every year for fifteen years. She came at Halloween, around the time that everyone else stopped buying flowers and started looking at pumpkins and costumes instead.   
And then there was the routine of her visits. She would arrive at the shop at exactly ten o'clock, glance over her shoulder at the street behind her, then hurry inside. Then she would browse for about ten minutes, inspecting all the flowers in the shop, even though every year she invariably bought a mixed bouquet of gerberas, daisies, roses, marigolds and honeysuckle, and a single long stemmed lily.   
Once he'd asked her who she bought the flowers for. She'd given him a really sad look and whispered 'for baby Lily', so he assumed she'd lost a baby daughter once.   
  
  
  
  
Petunia glanced both ways before leaving the sweet smelling shop, clutching the flowers to her chest. She walked briskly down the street, avoiding the gaze of the few shoppers she passed. She stepped off the curb and flagged down a taxi.   
She slid inside and carefully placed the bouquet on the seat next to her, taking care not to bruise the delicate petals. "St Jeanne's on Picklesby Road."  
"You off to a wedding dear?" the driver asked. He assumed that the flowers and her long overcoat meant she was a bridesmaid.  
"No." Petunia said coldly. She despised chatty cabbies. She turned and stared determinedly out the window to discourage further conversation.  
  
  
  
She unlocked the little gate that allowed access to the two graves. She scowled in disgust, looking at the ground. It had rained the night before, and in the mud there was a perfectly formed paw print.  
"A dog!" she snapped, laying the flowers on Lily's half of the grave. "One of your horrible friends brought their -pet- in here. No respect. No respect at all. That's what you get for mixing with people like that." she scolded.  
  
  
  
Having done her sisterly duty, she went home and did the ironing. She enjoyed ironing, because it was peacefully ordinary. She knew for a fact that Lily had never ironed a stitch of clothing in her life- she used to flick her wrist and the clothes would iron themselves and fold themselves and float into a drawer. So Petunia always carefully and meticulously pressed the family clothes by hand, because every time she did it it was an affirmation that she Was Not Weird.   
The thing about ironing, however, was that it never occupied the mind properly. She couldn't prevent her thoughts from drifting back through the years.   
**Lily was a beautiful child, there was no doubt about that. Petunia's earliest memory of Lily was of her as a clumsy toddler, walking for short bursts before falling over or bumping into something, which friends and neighbours always found terribly cute. She was always being admired for her big green eyes and her glossy red ringlets. Petunia was always proud to say "This is my sister"**  
  
Once the ironing was done she settled down to put the finishing touches on Dudley's Halloween costume. He was really much too old to go trick or treating, but he still wanted the candy. If Dudley wanted to go out on Halloween, Dudley could go out.   
Petunia hummed to herself as she threaded the needle. If she recalled right, Lily was wonderful at sewing. She would often send Petunia gifts of dresses or shirts. She said that it helped her relax during the stressful lead up to the end of year exams. Petunia never wore the items Lily made. She didn't feel comfortable around anything that could be tainted with magic.   
**Halloween was Lily's favourite holiday. She loved being able to step into someone else's shoes for a day, to be a princess, a ballerina, a fairy, then step out of them again at the end of the day and just be Lily. Petunia always stuck close to Lily, because her cute smile and pixie-like looks always inspired generosity in people. There were exactly ten Halloweens spent together. Petunia vaguely remembered an infant Lily being pushed around in a stroller, dressed in a pink jumpsuit and rabbit ears, and the last Halloween, with Lily dressed up as a witch.**  
Petunia put aside the sewing and, motivated by nostalgia, went over to the bookcase they stored the photo albums in. There were fifty-two albums- fifty stuffed with pictures of Duddikins looking handsome, one of Vernon as a boy and one of Petunia. She pulled out that one, a cheap, tacky album with a white cover patterned with yellow smiley faces.   
She poured herself her daily glass of wine and sat on the sitting room floor with it open before her. The pictures were faded and a bit off-colour. They couldn't fully capture the glow that surrounded her sister when she was in a good mood, which was almost always because she had an easy going, easily pleased nature.   
There were all the usual pictures-Lily and Petunia at the beach. Lily and Petunia on Lily's first day at -normal- school. Birthday parties, Christmases and of course, Halloween. Petunia sighed sadly as she flipped through the yellowed pages. Then she reached the final page that contained Lily's image. Four photographs- a picture of Petunia's eleventh birthday (a strange, awkward affair with her parents looking disappointed and muttering things like 'today's the cut off point and it didn't come' and 'looks like she's as ordinary as we are')  
A picture of the last Halloween spent together, with Lily in her witch costume (a complete coincidence) and Petunia dressed as an angel.   
Then a picture that was really all about Lily, but had made it into Petunia's album because it was a great picture of her. It was Lily holding up her Hogwarts letter, and Petunia hugging her proudly because she didn't realise what Hogwarts would do to her baby sister.   
The last photo Petunia ever had taken with Lily (later she refused to ever be close enough to Lily for them to both appear in the same picture) was of a beaming Lily in her brand new Hogwarts robes, with Petunia looking very prim next to her in the plaid skirt, straw hat and knee high socks of Lady Waifthrop's Academy for Girls.   
**Petunia sat on her bed, running through her list of things she had to pack. Lily ran into her room. "I'm so excited!" she shrieked, launching herself at Petunia. "I'm going to be a witch! I'm going to Hogwarts!" she flung her arms around Petunia.  
Petunia laughed. "I'm aware of that Lily. I can't breathe Lily."   
Lily let go of Petunia's neck and grabbed her hands instead. "Oh, I hope I'll do well! Wouldn't it be terrible if everyone was ahead of me! I should have practised more. Can I turn you into a toad?" Lily had been talking in exclamation marks all week.  
"No Lily. If I'm a toad my uniform won't fit. Don't worry. You won't fall behind. You're smart and dedicated and you work hard."  
Lily gave her another bone crushing hug. "I'll miss you!"  
"Petunia! Mrs Dursley is here!" their mother shouted. Petunia shoved Lily off and zipped up her suitcase. Lily carried it for her.  
"I'm sorry we couldn't drive you ourself, but there's no way we can drive Lily to her station and you to yours. This transport system is so inconvenient." their mum flustered, hugging her.  
"Its okay mum. I like Marge Dursley."  
Lily elbowed her. "No, you like Marge Dursley's brother."  
Petunia gave her a shove, but she felt a lump form in her throat. Lily had decided she wanted to experience a wizard christmas, so they wouldn't see each other until the next summer. "Don't you dare change baby Lily."  
Lily made a face. "You can't call me that anymore. I'm eleven."  
Mrs Dursley honked the horn and Petunia raced down the path. She paused at the car and looked back at Lily, framed in the doorway.**  
That was the last time Petunia talked to her baby sister Lily. Sure, she exchanged many words with a young redhead named Lily Evans that returned in the summer, but it wasn't her sister.   
**That summer, Lily arrived on the doorstep with electric blue curls. When questioned about the cause of her new hair colour, she just giggled and said "Potter", as if that was any kind of explanation.  
The next day, she sat at the kitchen table with a pile of books and weird instruments. Petunia wandered up. "That's a lot of homework."  
"Uh huh."  
"What is it?"  
"Arithmancy."  
"You want some help?"  
"You wouldn't get it."  
"Are you sure? I'm quite good at arithmetic."  
It was the first of many times that Petunia saw the 'witch' expression on Lily's face. For a fleeting second, she looked half-arrogant, half-pitying. "It's Arithmancy, not Arithmetic."  
  
  
  
Petunia shut the album. Every year it got progressively worse. First year she brought Arithmancy homework and her "I'm a witch" attitude. Second year she brought home the wizarding language. Suddenly Petunia was a 'muggle'- putting up a verbal barrier between them.  
Third year she came home with a suitcase full of mice, weird smelling herbs and odd jellybeans..  
But the fourth year was the worst. Petunia never forgave Lily for what she brought home in the fourth year.  
** "Petunia, this is James." Lily said nervously.  
"Nice to meet you." He extended his hand to shake.  
Petunia looked at his hand and said nothing. Something crashed in their front yard.   
"Sirius!" someone yelled. "My crystal ball was in that bag!"  
"Remus, trust me, I did you a favour. Prediction is a crock."  
Two boys appeared in the doorway, carrying all the bags. They stopped and stared at Petunia.  
"Oh my god."  
"It's a blonde Lily!"  
"Bags her."  
Lily thwacked the black-haired boy. "Sirius, haven't you learned anything from the Women's Lib Movement?"  
"I've learned that bras are surprisingly flammable."**  
  
  
That summer was the worst one Petunia could remember. When the boys tired of hitting on her, they turned their minds to finding creative pranks to play without using magic. And every time Petunia became their victim, the creature who used to be her sweet, compassionate sister just laughed.  
  
  
It wasn't really the anniversary of her sister's death. Her sister didn't die at Halloween. It was someone else, a stranger who was killed by Voldemort. Her baby sister Lily died when she stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. She didn't care about the adult Lily, but she cried and grieved for the sister she lost to Hogwarts. 


	3. I've Heard Stranger

A/N- This one took four attempts. It was originally meant to be about Harry, but he caused too many problems.  
  
As usual, all text surrounded by ** ** are memories or dreams.  
  
  
  
**Half a dozen small explosions interrupted Dumbledore's much needed sleep. With a weary sigh he rolled out of bed and stepped into his fluffy bunny slippers. Squelch. They were full of jam. He couldn't imagine how they had managed to get into his room. He couldn't even figure out how they had found his bedroom. It was for this very reason that he'd kept its location quiet.  
  
Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. He pushed open the door and a bucket of green goo upended itself onto his head.  
  
Professor McGonagall stood at the bottom of the stairs, her face smeared with whipped cream.  
  
"Let me guess." Dumbledore said with an amused smile. "They filled your hand with cream and tickled your nose?"  
  
McGonagall nodded, and pulled out her old black lace handkerchief to wipe her face with. "They're brave, sneaking into our rooms like that. But their tricks are usually far more creative."  
  
Dumbledore found a comb and began to scrape the goo out of his long greying hair. "Its Halloween. I learned last year that Black, Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew like to pay homage to the classics on Halloween."**  
  
  
  
Still partially asleep in his cocoon of blankets and pillows, Dumbledore could almost hear the fireworks that Black and Potter used to set off to celebrate All Hallows Eve, their favourite day of the year. (Aside from April Fools Day and the annual Zonko's Clearance Sale, of course.) Eventually his head cleared and the imagined signs of jubilance disappeared, leaving him alone to face the silence.  
  
  
  
The school was always far too quiet for his liking. Sometimes he wished he had a pair of cymbals to bash together to push back the silence that filled the halls when they were empty.  
  
He found himself having to grip the handrail as he climbed the stairwell. It occurred to him that he was fast becoming an old man. He supposed that a lifetime full of students like Rubeus Hagrid, Tom Riddle, the 'Marauders' and various Weasley's had greatly increased the speed of the aging process.  
  
Potter and Black had always loved the enormous staircases in Hogwarts. Dumbledore knew of at least two occasions when Potter had wound up in the Hospital Wing with multiple fractures because he tried to slide down the banister and the staircase moved, sending him flying off the end onto the floor far below. They also loved throwing things off them; water bombs, eggs, and once-  
  
**The screams echoed nicely off the stone walls. Dumbledore couldn't do anything except step out of the way as a terrified Lily Evans tumbled from above. She came to a jolting stop about two feet above the ground and began to swing back and forth. Around her ankles a rope was securely tied, and Dumbledore didn't have to look up to know that at least one of the Marauders was standing above them.  
  
"Good morning miss Evans."  
  
"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore sir," she said. Her face was beginning to turn the same colour as the two thick braids that were lightly brushing the floor, because of the blood rushing toward her head.  
  
"Have you taken up bungy jumping, miss Evans?"  
  
"Not voluntarily, sir. Sirius grabbed me from behind. Would you mind cutting me down?"  
  
"Certainly, my dear. So, Sirius Black grabbed you, tied a rope around your feet and threw you off a fourth floor staircase, am I right?"  
  
"Almost, sir. Sirius grabbed me and held my arms while James tied the rope. Then they both picked me up and threw me off a fifth floor staircase. I'm heavier than I look, it takes two of them to pick me up when I don't want to be lifted."  
  
"Hmmm. So, what do you recommend for their punishment?"  
  
"That depends. Is corporal punishment still legal?"  
  
"I'm afraid not."  
  
"Then make them polish the staircases. All of them. By hand, the muggle way. And I want to watch."  
  
"Hey Lily, are you- oh, hi Mr Dumbledore, sir." James said, appearing at the foot of the stairs, Sirius behind him. **  
  
  
  
Dumbledore had actually been quite surprised when Lily and James became an item shortly after that. In his day young women didn't date boys who showed their affection by flinging her off a staircase.  
  
  
  
The castle finally began to stir as he climbed the final set of stairs. Deep inside the castle his acute hearing picked up the sound of the house elves preparing breakfast, and somewhere above there was the tinkling of glass as Peeves happily shattered old windows.  
  
"Morning, Dumbledore," the Fat Lady said sleepily.  
  
"Good morning, my dear. I believe today's password is 'Crookshanks', is it not?"  
  
"Correct, sir"  
  
Dumbledore drifted through the common room and up the final flight of stairs. Hogwarts had too many staircases in his opinion. He paused outside the dorm room door. He wasn't sure why he was there- he hadn't been inside Gryffindor Tower in years.  
  
In fact, the last time had been the day Potter, Black, Pettigrew and Lupin graduated.  
  
**"Isn't this illegal?" Peter asked nervously. The four boys were standing at the feet of their beds as Dumbledore, Filch and Snape ripped apart their beds and trunks, looking for evidence of a prank Snape swore he overheard them planning.  
  
James was quietly twitching as Snape methodically emptied his trunk. With barely disguised glee Snape uncovered a box and prised off the lid. "Aw, how sweet." He upended it, spilling out dozens of letters, notes and cards. He picked one up. "Its from your lovely fiancée. I think I should read it out." He opened the small pink envelope. "Dearest James. I was just thinking about how much I…"  
  
James interrupted the smaller boy by tackling him to the ground and twisting his arm behind his back. He wrenched the letter out of his hand.  
  
"Mister Snape, we're looking for banned items, not Mister Potter's personal correspondence." Dumbledore said.  
  
"Get him off! Ow!" Snape yelled, as James continued to twist his arm just for the fun of it.  
  
"Are you done yet?" Sirius asked.  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "I believe so. You seem to be in possession of very few questionable items, so I apologise and we will leave you to finish getting ready for graduation."  
  
Remus began to put his bed back together. "Personally, I am insulted and deeply saddened that you and one of our fellow students think we would de something to ruin your carefully planned graduation ceremony."**  
  
  
  
Dumbledore once told Harry that his father had used the invisibility cloak to steal food from the kitchens. What he had neglected to mention was that this food hadn't been in the form of the odd cake or piece of fruit. He'd taken a bit more than that. That was the main problem with house elves. If you asked them nicely enough they would bend over backwards to produce anything for you- even ten thousand litres of strawberry jam.  
  
** It was the stickiest graduation ceremony in Hogwarts history. The students did a commendable job of keeping a straight face as they waded through a waist high river of jam to receive their diplomas.  
  
Afterwards, while everyone else was hugging and crying and generally acting like idiots, James stopped to talk to Dumbledore.  
  
"We weren't actually planning anything to begin with, but we had to get revenge for the room search."**  
  
As Dumbledore was recalling this, Harry opened the door and padded out, still dressed in his pyjamas. He blinked at Dumbledore and rubbed his eyes. "Hello."  
  
"Good morning, Harry."  
  
"That's weird. I was just dreaming about you. And my parents. We all went bungy jumping, but the ropes snapped and we landed in a pile of flowers. Roses, daisies, honeysuckle, marigolds and gerberas." Harry shook his head. "That's really strange."  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "I've heard stranger." 


	4. Easy

A/N: I have the flu, so I wanted a character to suffer like I have to. I'm sure that the wizarding community has a cure for the common cold and flu though, since never in four years have Harry, Ron or Hermione been sick with it. As far as I know, the below fact regarding Hungry Jack's is correct- I doubt there are any outside Australia. Ratsac is a type of rat poison. It's spelt wrong, and I'm too lazy to look up the real name.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------  
  
Death Eaters scuttled madly about, visibly wincing every time a sneeze echoed in the ramshackle house. Above, Lord Voldemort was discovering some of the drawbacks to having a body. His ascension to power had been temporarily halted by a nasty bout of the flu. Bed-ridden and irritable, the Dark Lord was cheering himself up by making unfair requests to his minions.  
  
"Oi! (Achoo) Worthlessssss rat guy!" he bellowed.  
  
"Yes, my lord?" Peter Pettigrew asked, appearing in the doorway.  
  
"Go get me a Hungry Jack'sss burger and a ssserving of curly friesss."  
  
"But, sir, the nearest Hungry Jack's is in Sydney, Australia!"  
  
"Thank you (achoo, achoo, achoo) for that uselesssss bit of trivia. Now go get my order or I'll start getting the cook to put Ratsac in your breakfast cereal again."  
  
"Sir, how am I supposed to get to Sydney?"  
  
"Can't you Apparate?"  
  
"No sir. I failed the test twice and I couldn't get anymore lessons because everyone thought I was dead…"  
  
"THAT WASN'T AN OPEN ENDED QUESSSSTION! THERE IS NO NEED FOR YOU TO WASSSTE MY PRECIOUS TIME WITH ANECDOTES ABOUT YOUR PATHETIC, WORTHLESS LIFE!!!" Voldemort screamed. Then he sneezed in Peter's general direction and pointed to a corner. "There'sss a broom. Have a nice flight."  
  
Below him, the Death Eater's had fallen silent. A few of them chuckled at Peter's misfortune.  
  
"Yessss, hilariousssss, issssn't it?" Voldemort shouted down. "You want to hear ssssomething that will really tickle your proverbial funny bones? WHEN I FOUND OUT WHICH ONE OF YOU BAS(achoo)TARDS CAME INTO THISSSS HOUSSSSE WITH THE FLU I WILL CUT YOU INTO LITTLE BITSSS AND HAND FEED YOU TO NAGINI!!" Coughing, he reached into his drawer for a throat lozenge to soothe the burning his outburst had caused in his already raw throat. He glanced at the doorway. "Don't look so smug, Mr Malfoy. You're my prime sssussspect. I know you've got one of thossse horrible, germ-ridden children."  
  
"I do sir, but I assure you that Draco is not to blame. I only have to see him in the summer and at Christmas, and a good thing it is too. Whenever he's home he never shuts up. 'Father, can I have a car?' 'Father, why don't we have any pretty maids?' 'Father, can you teach me the Unforgiveable Curses?' 'Father, where's the key to the liquor cabinet?' Honestly, he drives me insane."  
  
"Why are you telling me thisss?" Voldemort asked. "Do I look like your therapisssst?"  
  
"You do actually. I mean, you're both pale and you've both got the same haircut. The only difference is, Dr Bluxwell has blue eyes and yours are all red and evil…" his voice dwindled away. Voldemort was making a valiant attempt at glaring him to death. "Anyway, Draco hasn't had the flu since he was a baby."  
  
Voldemort screamed and Lucius Malfoy flinched. "What did I sssay about using that word in my presence?"  
  
"You said 'don't ever use that word in my presence', sir." Lucius said. "Sorry, sir."  
  
"It'sss too late for sssorry, the flashbacks are sssstarting already."  
  
"Issss…" Lucius shook his head. The extra ssss's were easy to pick up if you talked to the Dark Lord for too long. "There anything I can bring you? An innocent bystander to kill perhaps?"  
  
Voldemort shook his head. "No. Well, maybe another box of those rose scented tissuesss. And throw yourself off the roof for me, I'm too ssssick to do it."  
  
"Certainly, sir."  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------  
  
Voldemort pulled his down comforter over his head and hugged his fluffy bunny, Cuddlekins. He'd once been top of the game, the great Lord Voldemort.  
  
**He'd been practising his menacing, floaty walk all week. He drifted up the garden path, past the roses and daisies and gerberas, marigolds, lily pond and honeysuckle.  
  
He tore down their front door, never one for patience. He took a bit of wall and some honeysuckle with it.  
  
It was supposed to be easy. All in a days work. First daddy Potter, then mummy Potter. Then bye bye baby Potter and off home for a cup of coffee and a good night sleep.  
  
Killing Harry was supposed to be easy. ** 


	5. Missing Pieces

A/N The summary originally said that the fifth chapter would be about James and Lily- this one isn't. That chapter hasn't been cancelled like the Harry chapter was, just postponed. The J/L chapter will be up before next week. I added this one because a reviewer suggested a Lupin chapter and I couldn't get the plot for this one out of my head, so I had to write it.  
  
Just a few language notes- in England (and Australia) to get pissed is to get drunk, not angry, and I'm not sure if it is possible to look at someone with fraternal affection- I have a tendency to use words in the wrong context. This chapter is probably full of mistakes- I actually think Dudley is only a few days older than Harry, but I needed something for them to use as gossip, and Dudley's birth sprang to mind.  
  
And to finish off an excessively long author's note, where I live the legal age for drinking is 18; coincidentally, it's also the legal age for getting married. In this fic they were married at 18,which may make them too young to drink under English law. I don't know what the legal age is there.  
  
  
  
Remus flipped the paper open, squinting in the fading light. Too lazy to get up and find his wand to light the candles, he simply suffered it. He flicked through the pages, looking for the employment section.  
  
He paused when the social pages fell open. He didn't usually read them- he didn't really care when Narcissa Malfoy threw boring parties that every guest pretended to enjoy or if the Wyrd Sisters were planning to tour Canada.  
  
But today there was a large colour photo that made him drop his coffee in surprise. He didn't even notice it burning his leg; his gaze was transfixed on the photo. It was taken at some Hogwarts event; he didn't other reading the article to find out which one it was. It contained about thirty kids of various ages, showing off for the camera in the background. In the foreground, completely oblivious to the photographer's presence, Harry Potter was deep in conversation with a giggling redhead- Virginia Weasley, if he recalled correctly.  
  
Ginny was playing nervously with her hair, staring up at the older boy with undisguised adoration. Harry was either unaffected by this or carefully ignoring it, smiling at her with an expression that was best described as almost fraternal affection.  
  
Remus spun his chair around and rolled it over to the bookshelf on the other side of the study. From the second shelf he pulled a cheap photo album.  
  
**Remus rang the bell twice to warn Lily as he flew down the slightly tilting hallway. She squealed and leapt out of the way as he blew past.  
  
"I'm sure riding that in here is against school rules!" She shouted after him.  
  
He applied the brakes and swivelled around in his seat. "Nope. The Founding Four were too busy banning curses and ritual virgin sacrifices to bother with the muggle bicycle, which by the way wasn't invented until several centuries after the school was opened."  
  
"You're a smart arse sometimes Remus," she said.  
  
"Yep. But I'm a cuddly smart arse. Where's my good morning hug?"  
  
She laughed and allowed her friend to come over and wrap his arms around her petite frame. One of Remus' many oddities was that he was incredibly affectionate to everybody. A werewolf who loved hugging people. It would be funny if he weren't also in the habit of punching anyone who laughed at his affliction.  
  
"Look what I've got," he said proudly, pulling away and holding up a square package.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I have no idea. It's still wrapped up. My family sent it."  
  
"A present? Is it your birthday?"  
  
"No, it's the anniversary of the first time I transformed into a werewolf. My family send me a present every year, to be supportive."  
  
"That's nice."  
  
"You think? I reckon it's a bit weird. Anyways, a present is a present, so lets open her up."  
  
It was a camera. A shiny, clean, loaded, top-of-the-line, state-of-the-art, you beaut, swanky, professional looking (is that enough adjectives yet?) wizard camera.  
  
Lily immediately put her hands over her face.  
  
"I wasn't even pointing it at you." Remus objected.  
  
"You were planning to."  
  
"What, you can read minds now?" he laughed, and they walked off in search of photograph victims. **  
  
  
  
He'd adored that camera. Later, he was glad that he'd loved it so much, because when he really felt like he'd fallen into a black hole he could pop open a bottle of red and get quietly pissed at his kitchen table while looking at the photographic proof that he had once been happy. Not that that was a regular occurrence anymore, although it had been an almost nightly routine in the early days after Lily and James died.  
  
He found the photo he was looking for and whipped it out of the protective plastic sleeve. He placed it next to the newspaper photo and was stunned by the resemblance.  
  
They were almost identical. Both showed a Potter conversing with an obviously smitten redhead- Ginny and Lily even wore their hair the same way.  
  
  
  
**Remus jogged up the path, a video under one arm and a bag of chips under the other. The garden was still surprisingly healthy. Remus had been under the impression that James could kill plants just by coming within two feet of them.  
  
Inside, Sirius was taking off his coat. Remus tossed the video to him.  
  
"What did you get?" Sirius asked, staring at the case.  
  
"The title is written on the spine. I didn't even know videos existed until Lily told me about them yesterday, so I didn't know how to pick a good one. The lady at the video store said that this was her favourite."  
  
Sirius looked at the title. "The Crucible. Looks interesting. Its about witches, so it has to be good."  
  
They started up the stairs together. Lily was in the kitchen as usual. She loved her kitchen because it was always warm and cheerful.  
  
She was dressed in black sweatpants and one of James' old t-shirts. This was an odd look for Lily, who always tried to look attractive. The scungy t- shirt was hardly flattering or feminine.  
  
Remus glanced over at Sirius and inclined his head towards Lily, who had her back to them. "I bet you ten galleons." He whispered.  
  
Sirius' eyes widened. "You think?"  
  
"I don't think. I know. Do we have a bet?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
James was sprawled on the lounge, looking content. Peter was sitting on the floor, digging into a bucket of popcorn. Lily came in and settled herself comfortably next to James. He wrapped his arms around her, pouring even more syrup on the scene of marital bliss.  
  
Remus managed to get the video into the VCR and turn it on, with Lily and James yelling instructions- Lily's were genuine, James was just yelling fake tips to confuse him.  
  
"Wait, you have to jump up and down three times before you stick it in, then touch your nose with your tongue or the video player won't work." James said, his face perfectly straight.  
  
"I married an evil man." Lily said with a sigh.  
  
"Yeah, but I make up for it by being handsome and a great kisser."  
  
During the boring bits of the video they chatted.  
  
"So, what's going on in your neck of the woods?" Sirius asked casually.  
  
"Well, Petunia has given birth to a pig." James said.  
  
"They've named the unfortunate child Dudley. Dudley Dursley. There should be a law against giving children names that awful."  
  
"And Arabella's cat finally had her kittens. Five of them."  
  
"She's keeping the lot."  
  
Remus nodded. "You know, if 'Bella isn't careful she's going to wind up one of those crazy old cat ladies."  
  
"Our good friend Severus Snape is teaching at Hogwarts now."  
  
"Poor kids."  
  
They continued like this for a while until-  
  
"Oh, and Lily's expecting a baby."  
  
There was a long pause while everyone waited for James to tell them he was joking. He didn't. Remus turned to Sirius. "I believe I just won ten galleons."  
  
"Perceptive git." Sirius muttered, counting out the money.  
  
"But you weren't trying for a baby." Peter said.  
  
"She was an accident." James admitted.  
  
"She?" Remus asked. "You know the sex?"  
  
"No, we don't know. He just believes that we're definitely going to have a redheaded little girl names Rose Potter, who will be Gryffindor Seeker and Head Girl. He has a whole fantasy life built up for his daughter. But he'll be disappointed, because we're having a son."  
  
"You don't know that." James said.  
  
"James, the kid lives in my abdomen. I know a few things about him."  
  
"Have you though of any names?" Sirius asked, interrupting an obviously long running argument.  
  
"Well, Rose if it's a girl. And James won't even consider picking out a boy's name because he insists that we're having a girl, so he'll probably end up with a boring name like John or Harry." **  
  
  
  
Remus woke with a start. He'd drifted off. Glancing out the window, he saw that the sun had set and darkness had fallen.  
  
He shut the newspaper, deciding to forget about the job search for a while. He left the room, stumbling over furniture in the gloom. His wand was in the kitchen in a drawer. "Lumos," he commanded, illuminating his small cooking/eating area. 'Untidy' would have been a kind description for the room. Cleanliness wasn't next to godliness in Remus' dictionary. He looked at the clock. He'd been asleep longer than he'd realised. It was quite late at night. Coincidentally, in about twenty seconds it would be exactly fifteen years to the minute since the Potter's were killed.  
  
He stood watching the seconds tick away. Its amazing how long twenty seconds can be when you're clock-watching. After eleven seconds, the large doggy door he'd installed in the back door clanged loudly. Remus didn't turn around.  
  
"I see you remembered too." Sirius said quietly.  
  
"How could I forget?"  
  
They stood in silence, watching the clock. The hands moved slowly to the minute he'd been waiting for. He was almost disappointed when nothing happened. It was a minute, just like any other minute.  
  
"You want a drink?" Sirius asked. There was the heavy click of a wine bottle being placed on the table.  
  
"Where'd you find that?" Remus asked. Sirius couldn't even buy food for himself, so the purchase of alcohol was out of the question.  
  
"I found it in vault 466 in Gringotts." Sirius explained, easily locating the corkscrew he knew was in the second drawer. "The goblins don't care who they're serving, so long as you've got your key."  
  
"So that's…"  
  
Sirius nodded.  
  
  
  
**After James and Lily's spur-of-the-moment wedding, they had a small, spur- of-the-moment party to celebrate.  
  
They partied into the small hours of the morning, until there were only the Marauders and Lily left. Someone had bought a case of wine as a wedding present, and there were two small bottles left.  
  
Too exhausted to do anything else, they were all sitting on the floor. Lily was nearly asleep in James' lap, and Peter was asleep with his back against the wall.  
  
Sirius opened one of the bottles and poured five small glasses. "One last toast?"  
  
"I'll do it." James offered. He took his glass and, with surprisingly clear speech considering the amount of celebrating they'd done, said "I'd like to propose a toast to the new Mrs Potter, my favourite person in the whole world, and to my three best friends," he sighed contentedly. "I feel like my life is a jigsaw puzzle and I've finally found all the pieces."  
  
"I'd forgotten that alcohol makes you go all soppy." Sirius said with an affectionate punch on James' shoulder.  
  
Remus kicked Peter to wake him up. "We three had better stumble home then."  
  
"What are we going to do with this last bottle?" Lily asked sleepily, lifting her head off her new husband's shoulder for a second.  
  
"Keep it. Drink it on your golden wedding anniversary." Sirius suggested.  
  
"I have a better idea." James said. "Why don't we keep it, and the last living member of this group can drink a toast to the others?"  
  
"What a depressing note to end our wedding on." Lily murmured.  
  
"I like the idea." Sirius said sombrely. Everybody paused, all thinking the same thing- with Voldemort steadily gaining power; it probably wouldn't be very long until that bottle was opened. **  
  
Remus shook his head and picked up the bottle to put it away. The neck was sticky with dog drool because Sirius had been carrying it in his mouth in dog form.  
  
"I think you should open it." Sirius said in the same sombre tone he'd used all those years before.  
  
"Only Lily and James are dead."  
  
"Sure, James and Lily are the only legitimately dead members of the group, but look at the rest of us. There's Peter, who faked his own death a decade and a half ago and has been under someone else's command for years, never doing anything unless he's told to. That's not living. And me, I'm more dog than man, hiding in the shadows, being people's pet. The only people I ever talk to are you and Harry, and I never do anything except hide. Nope, we're not all dead, but we're not living either. You're the last man standing."  
  
Remus felt tears prick his eyes as Sirius poured two glasses of wine. "May the curse of the Marauders never strike again," he whispered.  
  
Sirius handed him his glass with a smile. "We haven't had the best of luck, have we? Maybe Snape wasn't just making idle threats when he said he was going to hex us after that dead rat incident in fourth year."  
  
Remus went to drink his wine, but Sirius stopped him. "You have to make a toast to those of us that have fallen."  
  
Remus thought for a moment, and then lifted his glass. "To the missing pieces of the puzzle." 


	6. Tomorrow

A/N- This is it. The last one. Finally. And for once, I have nothing to say.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------  
  
It was raining again. It thundered on the roof and splashed against the window, turning the normally warm and cosy bedroom into an icebox. Lily rolled over with a groan and wrapped herself in her warm patchwork quilt. Her feet were cold. James had left the window open again.  
  
He was in the kitchen below her, clattering around and probably making a mess, all the while singing at the top of his voice. She lay there, listening to him pottering about, putting the kettle on, setting the breakfast table, and then coming up the stairs. She ran a hand through her tangled hair as he gently pushed the door open and entered, still singing. It was a cheerful song from a play they'd once seen together at Hogsmeade, and he didn't know all the words, so he would miss parts and make others up.  
  
"One can wish on a falling star  
  
Two can make the dream come true  
  
It takes two baby. It takes two baby  
  
It just takes two"  
  
"Baby me and you." Lily chimed in. James grinned and yanked the quilt off her. He pulled her out of bed and handed her her fluffy green dressing gown and bunny slippers. "One will something something, two can make the light shine through. It takes two baby, it takes two…"  
  
"Okay, okay. I'm up, I'm awake and I'm probably capable of coherent conversation, so you can stop with the cheery singing now."  
  
He smiled. "Luckily, my cooking skills are better than my singing. If you'll follow me madam, there is a breakfast of fresh coffee, home made pancakes and golden syrup awaiting you in the kitchen."  
  
"You're an angel," she winced at the unintentional pun. "What did I do to deserve you?"  
  
"You've put up with my singing and terrible jokes for nearly twenty five years."  
  
"Have we really known each other for that long?" Lily asked, making a face. "That makes me feel so old."  
  
"Don't worry. We're pushing up daisies. Expired. Passed on. We have ceased to exist. Lost the ability to breathe. In a better place. Permanently and totally disabled. Age shall not weary us." He draped an arm across her shoulder and steered her in the direction of the kitchen.  
  
The house they 'lived' in now was identical in every way to their old home in Godric's Hollow. S they passed the locked door of Harry's nursery she felt James' arm tighten around her shoulder. She realised that she'd reached out and put her hand on the doorknob. She smiled bitterly- she hadn't seen him in fifteen years, but her first instinct every morning was still to check if Harry was awake yet. She dropped her hand sheepishly.  
  
**It was the best room in the house. Originally it had been used as James' office, but as soon as she'd found out she was expecting she made him move all his stuff to the smaller room down the hall, because she wanted the baby to have the biggest room with a walk in closet. James wasn't exactly delighted that he had to move because of an embryo, but there was nothing as scary or determined as Lily once she'd made her mind up about something, so the move happened. **  
  
"You know what today is?" James asked as he drowned his poor defenceless pancakes in golden syrup.  
  
"Saturday?" Lily suggested, slicing a tiny square of pancake and neatly taking prim little bites.  
  
James paused. "No, it isn't."  
  
Lily shrugged. She didn't really know why James cared about the date. As far as she was concerned all that mattered was that when the sun was up it was day and when it went down it was night. She didn't care which day or night it was.  
  
Unaffected by her disinterest, he continued. "Its Halloween. October 31st."  
  
"Oh," was all she could say. "How many is that now?"  
  
"Fifteen."  
  
"Time flies."  
  
"Are we having fun?"  
  
Lily didn't answer. She picked up James' empty, sticky plate and her own barely touched breakfast. She dumped the dishes in the sink and turned on the tap.  
  
"What are you going to do today?" James asked, putting the golden syrup back in the cupboard.  
  
Lily shrugged. "Clean the house probably."  
  
"You cleaned it yesterday."  
  
Lily shook her head. "Déjà vu." She muttered under her breath.  
  
**Lily stood at the sin, trying to shift the pumpkin goo off Harry's breakfast plate.  
  
James leaned against the counter, cradling a pumpkin coated Harry against his hip. "I'm going to try and find our son underneath all this muck. What are you going to do today?"  
  
"Probably clean the house."  
  
"You cleaned it yesterday. You washed the windows. You vacuumed underneath the lounge. You even pulled out a stepladder and dusted the tops of the doorways. What's left to clean?"  
  
"I'll find something. Harry's always messing things up." She glanced over her shoulder. "Don't look at me like I'm going mad. You're going stir crazy too. I seem to recall you deciding to paint the kitchen ceiling in the middle of the night because you couldn't sleep."  
  
James shrugged. "But I slept quite well afterwards."  
  
"And the ceiling looks lovely. But it's not a normal thing to do. **  
  
James wrapped his arms around her, seriously impeding her ability to wash the dishes. "Why don't you get out of the house? You could water the flowers."  
  
"Why don't you do it?"  
  
"Lily, it saddens me that after a quarter of a century you don't know that I can kill plants by watering them."  
  
She smiled. "Sorry."  
  
"You could go visit our new neighbours. They're nice, a young family of three. Arrived last Wednesday, died in a car accident."  
  
James had a morbid fascination with the new arrivals to their neighbourhood. Lily used to attend all the welcoming barbeques and parties that the other residents threw for the newbies, but she found them depressing and eventually stopped.  
  
"I'll go see them tomorrow." She said softly.  
  
"I thought you didn't believe in tomorrow."  
  
"I don't. Its just a polite way of saying that I intend to put off visiting them, probably forever."  
  
**As far back as James could remember she hadn't believed in tomorrow. The first time he heard her mention it they'd been in second year, and Moony had asked what Lily planned to do after Hogwarts.  
  
"How can I be sure I'll live that long?" she asked. "I don't believe in tomorrow, next week, next moth, next year. The only thing that's real is today."  
  
It hadn't been a phase either. He'd thought she would eventually allow people to talk about the future with her, but she'd stuck firm to her disbelief. Even with important things.  
  
On the last trip home from Hogwarts, he'd tried. "How about March for the wedding?"  
  
Lily shrugged. "What if we die in a freak accident before then?"  
  
James sighed in frustration. "We have to pick a date. Its not like we can just get married right now."  
  
"Why not? Arabella has a nice white dress in her bag." **  
  
Lily idly flicked her duster around the trinkets and photographs on the mantelpiece. She paused and picked one up, an enlarged picture of Harry sitting on the lounge room floor.  
  
"Fifteen years." She whispered. She didn't know anything about those years, how he'd grown, what he'd done, where he'd gone. All she knew was that he was alive and he wasn't her baby boy anymore.  
  
**Lily stared out the window into the darkness. Most of the trick or treaters had drifted home by that hour, and the lights were going out one by one as people went to bed.  
  
She turned, knowing that James was behind her, and took his hands. She was uneasy. She knew that they were safe, but she couldn't help being worried. Peter was quiet and a bit odd, but she trusted him. Didn't she?  
  
Always the perceptive husband, James squeezed her hand. 'Everything's okay."  
  
"I know." She said. They both stood side by side and watched as a lone teen, dressed as a bunny rabbit, hurried down the dark street. "That's the last one. You officially missed Halloween."  
  
"There'll be more." He paused, waiting for her to jump in with her speech about there being no tomorrow, but she didn't say anything. "Next Halloween, or the one after, possibly the Halloween after that, we'll be fine. No fear, no hiding, no Secret Keeper, no You-Know-Who. Just you, Harry and me being a normal family. And after Halloween there'll be Christmases and Easter and birthdays. When Harry's older we can go on holidays, to Hogsmeade and the seaside and to the Quidditch World Cup."  
  
Lily smiled. "Just us three?"  
  
"Well, no. Harry needs a sister to torture. Four of us. You, me, Harry and Rose. They'll both go to Hogwarts and be Quidditch players and prefects. He'll spend most of his life in detention for various crimes ranging from harmless pranks to beating up any of his friends that try to date his sister. She will, of course, be an angel like you were."  
  
"You spend a lot of time thinking about the future, don't you?"  
  
"You don't spend any time thinking about the future. I have to think twice as much to make up for it."  
  
Above, Harry began to cry. "I'll go." Lily offered, pulling away. "I'll settle him down, then I think I'll go to bed."  
  
"Okay. Happy Halloween, Lily."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, James." ** 


End file.
